


Pick your fights

by wwwinteriscoming



Series: Pick your fights [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, Dex Is Very Angry, Dex swears a lot, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nursey makes him see he doesn't Have to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 13:46:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7510696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwwinteriscoming/pseuds/wwwinteriscoming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William Poindexter is not calm. William Poindexter was born not calm. When his mother used to tend to injuries he’d gotten in reckless fights, bandaging his bruised and bloodied knuckles from the time he was old enough to throw a solid punch to the time he left for Samwell, she’d look at him apprehensively. Dex had always responded with a scoff. Like being a little aggressive and quick to fight was that terrible. His mother had always, no matter his age, ruffled his hair, before telling him softly</p><p>“You have to pick your fights, my dear,” with so much sadness and worry in her eyes that little William’s protective instincts kicked into gear faster than for whatever fight he’d just gotten out of.</p><p>“And I’m picking all of them,” He’d always answered, clenching his jaw, his eyes sparkling dangerously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pick your fights

William Poindexter is not calm. William Poindexter was born not calm. When his mother used to tend to injuries he’d gotten in reckless fights, bandaging his bruised and bloodied knuckles from the time he was old enough to throw a solid punch to the time he left for Samwell, she’d look at him apprehensively. Dex had always responded with a scoff. Like being a little aggressive and quick to fight was that terrible. His mother had always, no matter his age, ruffled his hair, before telling him softly

“You have to pick your fights, my dear,” with so much sadness and worry in her eyes that little William’s protective instincts kicked into gear faster than for whatever fight he’d just gotten out of.

“And I’m picking all of them,” He’d always answered, clenching his jaw, his eyes sparkling dangerously. 

Which was the mentality he came to Samwell with. Which was the mentality he met Derek Nurse with. Dex knew he’d been dealt a rough(er) hand in life and he’d been so, so angry about it since he’d realized that that he always felt the anger shaking, pulsing underneath his skin, like a living armour. And there was Nursey. Smug where Dex was unsure, rich where Dex was poor, freely going for his creative interests instead of sagely sticking to the practical choice for the future like Dex, objectively smoking hot where Dex was definitely not. Not.. That that crossed Dex’s mind a lot. 

The point was that somebody should have seen it coming. They couldn’t possibly have thought that they’d, like, balance each other out or some crap. Dex doesn’t believe in stuff like that. Has always nodded when his mother said that some day he would find somebody that would not necessarily make him a better person, but would make him want to be a better person. For them. And then she’d gazed lovingly at his father and his siblings and he had fake gagged and he’d called on the anger in his bed, to feel it thrumming, to ward off all thoughts of someday maybe being more at ease. 

Dex and Nursey do not agree on anything apart from the fact that they do not like each other. Except maybe that the team is awesome and that they’re glad to be there. But not because of the other. That always seems to have to be specified. At first, every single time they come across each other ends explosively with harsh words, cutting like ice, all possible prejudices thrown out as weapons and vicious pulling and grabbing at each other. Then it’s like a flip’s switched from one day to another. Nursey surprises Dex by trying not to make a big deal out of it, their blatant dislike of each other, by trying to avoid confrontation rather than seek it out. He’d thought rich kids like him who had it easy would get a kick out of getting a rise out of people like him. But Nursey seems not to. He gives as good as he gets when Dex digs in, but then he just carries on safe for a glare or two thrown in his direction the remainder of the day. It surprises him and then it annoys him. 

Because okay, yes, maybe he’d been a little quick to put Nursey in a box. He overhears him talking to Ransom about the Black Lives Matter movement and the tears in Nursey’s voice make the anger flare up unexpectedly. Huh. He doesn’t know how to deal with that, so he doesn’t. Gets a few punches in the next time somebody comes close to insulting him when he’s drunk. Whatever. 

Overhears him talking to Shitty about how much they both hate the environment they’ve grown up in and as Shitty ribs his parents for the way they behave and make him behave, Nursey’s chuckle is fake and when he says “I’m better off not seeing them at all then, am I?” There’s no heat behind it and sadness descends over the duo, syrupy thick and Dex flees. He gets a little drunker than he was planning to that night and he’s just, taking the night in, sitting cross legged in the garden when he hears a few guys talking. He shrugs a little to himself, unable to deny them the quiet cool of the night air until he hears who they’re mocking. Nursey. The anger makes him see red and before he knows it, he’s being pulled off them by Ransom who tries to steady his heavily shaking arms, while Holster apologizes profusely to the guys he’d left bruised and bleeding.. Two? Were there two? He thought there had been more in the beginning, but maybe they’d already left. Seeing them triggers his anger again and he tries to wrench himself free, but Ransom holds him back effectively.

They leave him alone after that and he wanders back inside only to find Nursey leaning against the back door. Casually, with one shoulder against the door jamb, the moon light reflecting of his sculpted muscles and making his eyes seem impossibly intense when he cocks his head at his fellow d-man and shakes his head softly. 

“Always fighting everybody is never gonna solve anything, Poindexter. Until you realize that, I..,” He shakes his head, abruptly ending the sentence “Look, just.. It’s not a good long term solution, okay? The only person you’re really hurting is yourself.. And the people who care about you,” He said, softly, far too softly for the way Dex was still heaving and his hands were still shaking and bruised and bloodied and the kegster was loud. But Dex heard every word of it. Saw every muscle contract and detract as Nursey pushed himself upright with just his shoulder and walked back inside.

Dex wants to cry and it’s a thought he startles himself with. Because he hasn’t cried, safe for a few angry tears here and there, for years. Not really anyway. And yet here is this stuck up, privileged brat telling him fighting isn’t a productive solution to his problems and.. And Dex wants to say that he has no idea of what he’s been through, the fights that have been nicely solved with violence.

But.. But if being at Samwell, being a part of this team, has taught him anything it’s that everyone’s fighting their own battles and that very few of them use their fists as a way to solve them. As a way to cope. 

There’s Jack, who fights more battles with himself daily than Dex has probably ever had physically and still manages to give all of them enough of himself to make them better. There’s Bitty, who’s this never ending well of love and baked goods for anyone who’s willing to receive, while he hasn’t gotten that many positive encounters with people to look back on that should encourage him to do so. Shitty may be all big mouths and bravado, but Dex felt the weight of the sadness in that room and knows there’s more. Knows there’s more to Ransom and Holster, but has seen that they’ve learnt each other so well that they can pick up each other’s slack gracious enough to let a faltering go by unnoticed. 

And then there’s Nursey. Nursey, who seems all above everything and unbothered by judgmental fucks such as himself getting a bunch of wrong ideas about him in their heads and never shutting up about them. Just lets it happen. He pushes back, but he never actually defends himself, Dex suddenly notes. His burning knuckles distract him and he pushes into the house and to the bathroom.. Where he finds Nursey, again. Looking at him all sad, again. 

“I figured you’d come here sooner or later to take care of those and I know for a fact that you can’t decently take care of your own knuckles, because I’ve seen you try,” He chuckles, voice still so damn soft. Dex doesn’t know why it’s bothering him. Maybe he just doesn’t want to see. He takes a seat on the closed toilet.

“Dude, I’m not, like, fucking fragile okay? Stop talking to me, like I’m some injured animal you found on the side of the road,” He spits out and it’s harsher and meaner than Nursey deserves and too loud, far too loud. Nursey looks like he’s been slapped for a split second before he moves to just disinfect Dex’s knuckles and rub some salve on them.

His hands are soft and careful and so are his movements and it makes something other than the anger inside Dex squirm, so he notches the anger up a level, because it’s all he has. All he is. 

“At least I fucking fight at all, huh? Haven’t seen you do more than those weak fucking pushes I was on the receiving end of in the beginning of the year.” And Nursey’s hands still, but he just looks up at him, expression still the soft sadness he’s been wearing since he saw him in that damn door. 

“I think I have as much right to believe that violence doesn’t solve anything as you have to believe that it solves everything. Don’t you?” He cocks an eyebrow in that damn smart way of his. Dex has had it with him. He shoves him out of the way, the salve leaving imprints on his shirt and he feels a tug of twisted satisfaction at ruining pretty, rich boy’s shirt. Which he knows is wrong, but. 

“Doesn’t stop you from lecturing about how it’s wrong at every fucking turn, now does it?” He spits and he has to stop himself from wincing at the too harsh loudness of his own words. 

“Maybe I think you deserve better. Can do better.” Nursey states simply and he eyes Dex for a second before turning around to leave. When his hand has pulled the door knob down, Dex stops him.

“Why don’t you ever fucking defend yourself, dude?” He says and he feels like he’s screamed it, like it’s an admission that’s been ripped from him instead of said with his consent.

Nursey looks back over his shoulder and shrugs. “Maybe I just don’t see the point in it, Poindexter. See you tomorrow.”

And with that he’s gone and Dex is left with the ghost of his sad smile and the ghost of his tender, light touches to his bruised knuckles and he sinks back down onto the toilet. He hears his mother say “Pick your battles,” and he thinks of the sad, self-deprecating smile that had been on Derek Nurse’s face mere moments ago and of the vibranting anger under his skin and the new, foreign feeling dominating with it. He’s picking this one. 

It’s not the kind of fight Dex is any good at. Because he has zero experience with them. He doesn’t know how to battle someone else’s inner demons, when he can’t even battle his own. He makes a point of getting Bitty to wrap his knuckles and then makes a point of letting the bruises heal and the cuts heal. After two weeks, he’s got smooth, healthy knuckles and he doesn’t really remember when they were last this pure. He has so much pent up energy that the force and the speed of their combinations on the ice skyrocket, too and sometimes he’ll catch Nursey grinning at him and it’s enough for now.

He’s telling Holster this crazy story about something two of his sisters had gotten up to earlier that month and he’s responding in kind when he notices that Nursey has gotten that sad expression again. And he realizes he doesn’t even know whether he’s got any siblings. 

“Hey Nursey, you got any siblings who are off at fancy boarding schools right now?” He asks and he can tell that Holster startles a little, that he’d forgotten Nursey was there. That probably means something, that he’s always aware of Nurse’s presence, of his expressions.

“Nah, man, just me,” Nursey says, avoiding eye contact with both his team mates.

“You must get a lot of attention from your parents then?” Holster prompts, nudging him with his elbow.

Nursey plasters a fake smile on his face and chuckles and it comes out almost painfully sounding.

“More like none at all. I suppose it’s easier to forget you have children if it’s only the one?” He prompts, shrugging. Neither Dex nor Holster laugh. Holster looks at Dex like he has the answer to the situation, which he definitely does not and when he sees that panic reflected in Holster’s eyes, he’s at a loss. Holster, the traitor, who bolts it mumbling something about d-men bonding. Well, maybe it’s better this way. Dex doesn’t think he would have dared to speak much if he had stayed.

“I.. Uh.. I’m sorry?” He says haltingly. Nursey laughs a little more genuine at that, which feeds the emotion underlying his constant anger and leaves a more pleasant fire in its wake.

“It sucks. Like, it’s not nice. But I got you guys now, so I’m cool.. Or, a lot cooler with it than before. I’ve never really had much of a makeshift family until now. This team.. Yeah, it’s family to me,” Nursey admits, quiet and suddenly shy, looking down at his hands instead of at Dex.

Dex doesn’t really know how to react to that. His heart just feels really, really full, so he covers Nursey’s fidgeting hands with one of his own and squeezes a little. “And it’s an honour, to be able to do be that for you,” He says and it still comes out a little sharp, but it’s already a lot softer around the edges.

Nursey looks at him for a moment, before looking back down at their hands. “What’s that about anyway?” He asks, thumb grazing Dex’s clean, soft knuckles. Dex tries to ignore how much it sends sparks through him.

“Picking my fights,” He grins, smug at Nursey’s confused expression.

A couple days later Dex finds Nursey sitting by the quad, reading, until some douchey looking type who looks more than a little buzzed approaches him. And starts lecturing him about how rich people think they have it all figured out and think they’re all high and mighty and Dex’s anger flares up alarmingly. He forces himself to breathe steadily, that this is Nursey’s call. Nursey himself just smiles up at the guy. 

“Yeah, rich people- fucking assholes, all of us, aren’t we?” giving the guy a once over and.. Well, Dex only now notices the expensive brand clothing and the posture. Nursey wins yet again.

The guy goes bright red and turns away before the smile has even dropped from Nursey’s face. His anger has gone silent, but this strange feeling that’s been playing up around Nursey is humming pleasantly under his skin, urging him to take a seat next to Nursey.

“Smooth, bro,” He said, knocking his shoulder into Nursey’s. He gets such a wonderful smile in response he thinks he might need to compliment Nursey more often.

“It’s whatever, I guess. I can understand that the whole idea of rich people rubs people the wrong way. And I know, well, a large part of them are fucking douchebags. But I’ve never really felt part of them. I’ve been raised by nannies and caretakers at boarding school first, the entitled rich people second. And those nannies and caretakers were the furthest from my parents’ beliefs and ideas as possible and I’ve always felt more connected with those,” Nursey finishes with a shrug and looks out over the quad and Dex’s heart starts beating so fast and all the warmth in his body seems to be in the spot his shoulder touched Nursey’s and.. Oh. Oh. That’s what the foreign new feeling is. 

“I.. That’s really cool, dude. I.. I’m really sorry.. About being such a douche about it when we first met.. I might have.. Some anger issues,” He mutters, feeling every last bit of his face and neck go deep red, looking anywhere but at the gorgeous, wonderful, kind man next to him, who he’s most definitely in love with and who he most definitely doesn’t deserve.

“Hey.. Hey, Dex, look at me,” Nursey says, knocking his shoulder back into his, sending a whole new batch of warmth and sparks through Dex’s body.

“I was wrong, too, you know? Yeah, it took you some more time to get over it, but honestly, that you can think at all with the amount of punches you’ve taken to the head is a fucking miracle,” Nursey chuckles, holding onto Dex’s eyes with his own and Dex knows he’s aiming for humor, for lightening the mood, but he’s not about to let the douche just have it his way, now is he?

Dex smiles softly and just looks at Nursey. Lets himself look. Hopes everything he’s thinking and feeling shows as plainly on his face as he feels like it must. Apparently it doesn’t, because Nursey clears his throat after pulling him into a (far too) brief hug, ruffling his hair and throwing a “See you tomorrow morning!” over his shoulder by the door. Dex’s heart feels too big for his chest as he remembers Nursey pressed up against him and he basks in the memory of it and the vague remnants of his cologne lingering. 

This was but the first part of the fight, he realizes then, stunning himself with the clarity with which he now realizes what he has to do. He, William J Poindexter, is going to woo Derek Nurse like he deserves to be wooed.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! For those wondering: yes, I am still alive and yes, I am still obsessed with these idiots.
> 
> a) This will get a second chapter (bc honestly, Dex's wooing skills deserve its own chapter)
> 
> b) I have some Holsom and more Nurseydex fics in the works
> 
> c) "There's a boy who gives a shit behind these walls" is on hiatus until further notice bc I'm feeling pretty unbalanced and writing about depression and body image and anxiety is normally a good outlet, but it feels like a dangerous one rn
> 
> d) Thanks for the continued love!! Let me know if you liked this!
> 
> e) wwwinteriscoming on Tumblr, too
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to Ngozi from her webcomic Check, Please! (omgcheckplease.tumblr.com)


End file.
